


One Good Hand

by Mount_Seleya



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Hate Sex, M/M, Not Beat Read, Plot What Plot, Showverse, Top Jaime Lannister
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 16:06:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13011318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mount_Seleya/pseuds/Mount_Seleya
Summary: Jaime gets the upper hand over Euron Greyjoy while inspecting his fleet. Plotless hate sex set after "Dragonstone."





	One Good Hand

**Author's Note:**

> Someone [asked](https://valar-morekinks.livejournal.com/8859.html?thread=3652507#t3652507) for Jaime/Euron hate sex on the valar_morekinks community on LiveJournal the day after S7E1 aired. This bit of plotless trash was dashed out sometime in the week between S7E1 and S7E2 and thus disregards the rest S7.

Bare planks heaved and sunk gently beneath the flat of Jaime's boots. Daylight was spilling into the well-appointed cabin from the large window set in the ship's bow. The sun brooded low over the eastern horizon, gilding the waters of Blackwater Bay in a molten, glittering sheen. Black-sailed ships stretched out beyond the rim of the sea like a descending swarm of locusts.  
  
"You certainly have an impressive fleet," Jaime allowed, left hand perched on the pommel of his sword. His eyes swung around to meet Greyjoy's. He did not trouble to keep the venom from his gaze.  
  
Euron's lips slashed into a smile. A fey glint caught in his eyes. "One worthy of a queen's cunt."  
  
Jaime said nothing, just tightened his grip on the pommel of his sword, clenched his jaw. The moons since his return to King's Landing had been a bitter march of swallowed words and caged fury.  
  
"I've known women from every corner of the fourteen seas," boasted Euron. "Hot-blooded Dornishwomen who fight as well as they fuck. YiTish temple maids as pure as snow. Lysene courtesans whose special talents would break even a Lannister's purse."  
  
"I'm not interested in the details of your conquests, Greyjoy," Jaime drawled.  
  
"I've never had a queen, though," goaded Euron, undaunted. "What's it like? Your sister's cunt"  
  
Anger seared through Jaime's gut. He surged forward, seizing Euron by the front of his dark, silken shirt. Slammed the lean body back against the map-strewn table that spanned the length of the window.  
  
Euron let out a bark of a laugh. Quicksilver eyes bored into Jaime's. Then the head butted forward. Grinning lips crushed against Jaime's. It was brutal and consuming. A blaze of hatred and wrath.  
  
Bright heat speared down Jaime's spine. His cock stirred in his breeches. He hadn't felt it in ages, this treacherous yearning, not since Winterfell, when the bastard boy had pouted at him with his whore's mouth. It was a strange desire, rare as a red moon, easily forgotten in the sweet wet bliss of Cersei's cunt.  
  
Fisting his fingers in Euron's hair, Jaime yanked his head back, breaking the kiss. "Over the table," he growled. This swaggering fool would soon be Cersei's consort. He couldn't stop it. But he _could_ remind him of his station.  
  
A half-mad laugh burst out of Euron. Then he twisted around. Bent forward. Pressing his golden hand into Euron's back, Jaime reached to fumble open the laces of the black, leather breeches with his left.  
  
"It's a shame when a man loses his sword hand," Euron remarked.  
  
"One more slight and you'll be less a tongue, Greyjoy," Jaime shot back in a seething snarl. He jerked the breeches down, revealing a single arse cheek, then repeated the motion on the other side.  
  
"You wouldn't want to deny your sweet sister the delights my tongue can give her, would you?"  
  
Jaime did not deign to give a reply, merely ripped open his breeches, pulled out his achingly stiff cock. He spat into his palm. Slicked his shaft with a few swift strokes. It was a mercy Greyjoy didn't deserve.  
  
Jaime shoved inside. Euron gave a pained grunt. The forge-hot clutch of him was maddening. Jaime's hips drove forward, plowing his cock deeper and deeper, until at last he could go no further.  
  
"You're even less of a man than I expected, Lannister," Euron needled.  
  
" _Shut up_ ," Jaime seethed, starting a brutal rhythm.  
  
"Why don't you take the measure of a true man? Feel what will have your sister screaming?"  
  
Jaime knit his fingers in Euron's hair. Smashed his face down into the tabletop. His eyes slipped shut. Euron was rolling back into him, now, pushing his arse into the crash of his hips, like sea meeting prow. Release came upon him, swift and sudden, and he shouted, stilling as he spent into the glorious heat.  
  
"I've had better from halfwit boy-whores," Greyjoy said when Jaime pulled out a moment later.  
  
A white rill slithered down Euron's inner thigh. Jaime smiled as tucked himself back into his breeches. It was immensely satisfying, the sight of his seed leaking from the tiny, red-raw hole between the pale cheeks.

"Why don't you get on your knees and show me what that clever mouth can do?" Euron pressed. "I'll be your brother soon enough. You'll like that, won't you?"  
  
"You've got two good hands," Jaime said coldly, turning and striding to the cabin door.


End file.
